Little Bugs
by P and C Productions
Summary: By P and C Productions - A day in the Life of two inner city detectives


Little Bugs

By P and C Productions

I awoke with a feeling of relief that my heart was somehow still managing to pump life fluid into my veins and then I realized that I was right back where I had started. I dreaded the thought of having to face another morning of unbearable inner-city traffic accompanied by the fragrant aroma of carbon monoxide fumes. Not to mention the stench of decomposing victuals overflowing the dumpsters in the alley that regaled my nostrils with a symphony of indescribable repugnance…

But this is the life I've chosen.

Once again a thick blanket of anonymous abusers of a substance that for some is just part of a social pastime lay sprawled along sidewalks and doorways. They wait in their drunken slumber for store-owners to sweep them up and shoo them back into the cracks and dimly lit corners of the city where they spend the majority of their waking hours, Scavenging pop bottles, stogies and the occasional half eaten sandwich. I watch like the rest of us who have jobs and homes and lives to occupy our existence. But all I can really do for them is patrol these streets and bare witness.

I can't express in words why I continue to do it only that I feel compelled even driven. I can't speak for the man seated next to me in quiet contemplation but I wonder if he has any answers. I wonder if he's even given it much thought. We never attempt to form the question at least, not out loud. We just keep trying as hard as we can to scoop out the water and dive into the depths to retrieve the drowning victims only to discover that they show no gratitude for our efforts. In fact they would just as soon spit in our faces than to acknowledge that we deserve an ounce of appreciation for our efforts.

All I know is that for some reason when I find myself face to face with it I can't ignore it. I can't just walk away and do nothing like so many others can. But I'm not alone, thank God. He feels it too…the overwhelming desire to set things right. Someone once said that justice lives in the heart of an honest man.

We turn down another familiar alley and I begin to recall the images as they replay in my mind. I drift back to yesterday morning and I find myself once again riding shotgun. The call came in and I could smell the rubber burning on the asphalt as I reached underneath the seat for the Mars light and placed it on the rooftop…its bright red beacon signaling to the rest of the world that we were off on another race against time to salvage what we could of whatever scenario might be waiting for us around the next corner. They continue to go about their business with only a quick glance in our direction as if even the effort was an inconvenience to them.

But this time we wound up in a frenzy of gunfire, desperately hoping that it would end with all of our organs intact. We held no dissension for the young man that stood before us and felt he had no other way out. My partner tried with words to end it before the final shots rang out but it was too late…

His aim was true.

I watched as he stared silently down at the lifeless figure on the sidewalk beneath him with the knowledge that he had no other choice, but finding no solace in it.

So I asked myself again as I reached my hand up to rest on his shoulder and turned my head to look into his eyes.

(Why?)

He responded to my touch in slow motion and took in another appreciated breath before making direct eye contact with me. What I saw at that moment gave me all the answers I will ever need.

A tear…a single drop of human compassion fell from the corner of his eye and ran slowly down his cheek.

When you change the way you look at things…the things you look at change. I can't remember who said it but it's true.

Life is all about the choices you make and whether or not you can live with them. He and I have a choice. We can stand back and watch from a distance or we can choose to try and make it better.

Some don't have that luxury.

Maybe we're the fortunate ones…or maybe we _are_ just a couple of bugs swimming around in the toilet bowl of life.

But if at the end of the day we can tell ourselves that we did our best, that we've made a difference however small…

Maybe we won't have to ask why.

End


End file.
